Prom Foolery
by Polkahotness
Summary: ONESHOT. Senior Prom is fast approaching, and the last day to buy tickets is here. With Gerald on Arnold's case to find a prom date, a hypothetical conversation with Helga may prove to both solve his prom-date-problem and make it all the more worse. AxH. Pure fluff. R&R!


_**I don't really know where this came from, but I've been itching to do a oneshot prom story for AGES now. This may be one of many, I have too many ideas to shove into one narrow 'prom' story so here is ONE of my imaginings :)**_

 _ **Let me know what you think! As always, i don't own anything!**_

 _ **REVIEW!**_

 _ **xox**_

 _ **Polkahotness**_

* * *

~Arnold~

I looked over to where Helga sat fast asleep in the passenger seat of the Packard.

She looked immaculate as she sat there, her cheeks hinted with the soft blush that was both makeup and natural hue in the perfect amounts of each. Soft sparkles twinkled on her cheeks just below her eyeshadow-dusted eyelids, a light coat of mascara on her lashes that blinked away as she dreamed.

Specs of glitter coated everything within a foot radius of her; having fallen off during her basic movements like a trail of fairy dust from that movie I always used to watch as a child.

It's funny how I'd ended up with Helga here in my car, the events around the entire night blurring together from when it all started mere weeks ago. Back when prom was still up and coming and there was plenty of time to finish the details that people freaked out about much more than humanly necessary.

People, like Rhonda Wellington Lloyd.

"Today is your LAST CHANCE to purchase tickets for the Senior Prom, Ladies and Gentlemen," she'd announced over the intercom that Wednesday morning as we sat in homeroom for our weekly 15 minutes. "That means if you haven't asked that SPECIAL SOMEONE out yet, hop to it! What have you got to lose? The worst they could SAY is NO."

There was a fumbling of the microphone amid a few muffled, "Hey! I was using that!"'s and then finally followed by the principal's clearing of their throat and finishing up the morning announcements.

"Thank you, Miss Lloyd for those... encouraging words." A few people in the room chuckled, though most everyone was involved in their own conversations, completely captivated by their own lives that didn't revolve around prom.

"Now, Announcements for prom royal court will be announced at the end of the day, so PLEASE stop asking. That is all."

A click of the microphone rang through the speakers, leaving us to our remaining 10 minutes of time-wasting before first period began.

I swung my legs around under my desk so I could face Gerald who was playing with a pen as he sat behind me. "You taking Phoebe to prom yet?"

Gerald tapped the top of the pen in a cool rhythm on the old wood of the desk top, a smirk on his lips. "Mayyyyybe."

"So you finally asked her?" I pressed, my excitement for him evident, though he shrugged it all off as if it were nothing.

"This morning. By her locker." He enunciated each syllable looking at me with a smug glint in his eyes as he talked.

"Good for you, man." I nodded, a proud smile on my face. "You'll have a great time."

Gerald eyed me for a moment, his brow raising high up on his forehead, "You still haven't asked anyone?"

I shrugged my shoulders, the thought not something I spent too much time on. "Who would I take?"

"Anyone, Arnold. There are plenty of girls dying to have you as arm candy at Grand March..." His voice trailed off in a sing-songy tease but I shook my head not letting him get to me.

"I don't know, Gerald, there just isn't anyone I really want to take. Besides, I'd much rather just go without any strings attached to anyone. The last thing I want is drama like Junior Prom had."

Gerald and I made a face at each other, the memories of Rhonda's after-party coming back to haunt us at the mere mention of it.

"I still can't believe Lila PULLED that on you, man..." Gerald commented, though I had already expected this response before he even opened his mouth.

"Let's just... not talk about that."

"I mean- she really threw you a curveball, she did." He kept going, though I tried to stop him in his word-tracks.

"Gerald..." I scolded, but he just KEPT going.

"And now, her and Stinky have been together for what? Eight months? I mean, REALLY, Stinky PETERSON?"

"GERALD." I said firmly, his mouth shutting instantly though his facial expression was anything but sorry. "This year is going to be different. I'm going to... I'm going to let the good time find me."

I looked back to Gerald from where my attention had drifted and he was looking at me skeptically, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're going... to let the good time... FIND you?" He repeated, his voice slow and slightly shocked. "Mm mm MM, Arnold. Do you HEAR yourself sometimes, man?"

The bell rang it's monotone digital bell and everyone rose from their seats to tiredly make their way out of the room in pursuit of their first hour classes- Gerald headed for US Early History and me headed for College Psych. The classes were right across from each other, so we typically walked together, catching the other up on whatever it was that needed to be talked about.

And apparently today that meant Gerald grilling me on why I wasn't interested in having a date to prom.

"I just can't understand why you, a fine-looking eligible bachelor to the HIGHEST degree, wouldn't want to ask one of the many unsuspecting Arnold fangirls out there who are just DYING for your affections." Gerald continued, pushing his way passed a group of Sophmores crowding in the middle of the hallway as we walked along the 200 wing.

"Do you hear YOURself, Gerald? Arnold fangirls? Really?" I chuckled out, his whole argument completely ridiculous and full of hot air.

"Come ON, Arnold," he stomped almost as we walked, his point apparently not being made well enough without an addition of his dramatics, "You canNOT pretend like you don't see the ladies digging on you. You're a hot ticket item, my friend." He insisted, though I couldn't take him seriously despite his efforts.

We stopped just outside our rooms as we finished up our conversation with a couple of minutes to spare before class began.

"Whether they are 'DIGGING' on me or not, that doesn't change the fact that I don't want to ask anyone to prom. It isn't that I don't have options... I'm just... WAITING for something, I don't know." My attention drifted on random people as they walked passed us in their own ruts of making their way to the appropriate rooms.

A few people bee-lined their way into the Psych room, a couple nodding in my general direction as a sort of groggy "Hello." Amid the clumps of people entering the room, a familiar figure rammed into me, my whole body stumbling back from the sheer force of it.

"Watch it, Arn _oldo_. You and that head of yours are blocking traffic." Helga's snarky voice rang out above the hallway chatter, followed by a cackle as she entered the class in which we sat directly beside each other, as luck would have it.

Gerald smirked from where he stood watching from the opposite side of the hallway. "You know, Arnold," he said, his words deliberate and pointed "you COULD always ask HELGA to prom. I'm sure she'd be THRILLED to go with ya."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance at his comment, turning around to make my own way into the classroom. "Right, Gerald. Like THAT would ever happen."

* * *

"So who are you going to prom with, Helga?" I tried making small-talk with my partner as we worked on assignments due next week, the last five minutes of class upon us.

"Right. Like I'M going to PROM. Cripes, do you KNOW who you're talking to?" She snarled, her eyes remaining on the doodles she was scribbling on her paper below.

"I was just asking. No need to get grouchy." I smirked, my own attention half of Helga and half on the random scratchings etched onto the desk I was sitting at.

"What? Cause YOU were gonna ask me or something?" she asked, her tone almost hopeful but overall sarcastic.

I laughed, the idea sounding completely far-fetched once it came out of Helga's mouth. But I smiled and played along, curious to where she would go with this. "Sure, Helga. I was going to ask you to go to Prom with me."

"Oh really? And what, may I ask, makes you think I'd say YES to you and your freaky-looking head ANYWAY?" She pressed on, her tone still hinting at something though I wasn't catching on to just WHAT that was.

"Well," I began, ready to plead my phony case, "I clean up pretty nicely. I'm pretty light on my feet, if I do say so myself. And I'm sure I'd provide endless entertainment for you and your backhanded comments all throughout the evening."

Helga turned her head from looking downward at her doodles to catch my eyes with hers, the blue of them sparkling under the school's fluorescent lighting. "You do have a point there, football-head."

A solid minute of silence settled between us, most of our classmates surrounding us beginning to pack away their learning materials into their backpacks so they could hurry out of this class to get to the next one.

Helga and I remained seated, however, our thoughts still playing around with the game we'd began with my small-talk conversation of Prom and fake dates.

"So let's say," she continued, "I DID say yes to this hypothetical and incredibly wimpy prom-posal of yours here in the back of college psych with nobody listening to any of the words coming out of our mouths-"

I tried to hold the laugh developing from her oddly specific precursor of a sentence.

"-would you hold up on your end of the deal and not go pranking me in front of the entire grade?"

"Pranking you? Helga, why would I do that?" I asked, dumbfounded.

But she only leaned back in her seat and looked at me with a deadpan of a stare. "Seriously. April Fool's dance, fourth grade. Pretty maniacal of you to throw me into a pool where I could have DROWNED and easily had you sued for every penny you got in a wrongful death suit."

I laughed outright, her memory clearly faded from over the years. "Let's not forget, it was YOU who started the prank in the first place by pretending to be BLIND and all."

"No, no, no, no, no HAIR BOY, if you hadn't gone and pulled that stupid prank on me in the FIRST place, NONE of that would have even HAPPENED. You went and ruined one of my first school dances, and you know it." She shot me a look before beginning to also pack up her things; organizing her books from biggest to smallest and tossing them into her backpack.

"So if I ruined your dance so badly, why would you even say yes to my hypothetical prom-proposal ANYWAY?" I couldn't seem to stop the words from coming out of my mouth, though I didn't seem to regret them once they were out in the open.

Helga half stood up from her desk, her one leg bent to rest her knee of the seat as she faced me. "Maybe so you can make it UP to me because, let's be honest, I think you owe me that much."

"I owe you that much, huh? I owe you my senior prom?" I too stood up and mirrored her position as she faced me.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd say that's a fair trade, don't you?"

The clock behind her was hovering on the :49, the next minute and following bell soon ready to dismiss us from whatever it was that was happening between Helga and I in the suddenly-too-hot classroom.

"But this is all just hypothetical, isn't it? It isn't like you actually MEAN to ask me to prom and you won't actually go and buy TICKETS or anything because it's the last day to buy them and your tall-haired sassy other-half just so happens to be taking MY best friend so you might as well take ME because, let's face it, you're going to be seeing my pretty face ANYWAY..."

"Wait, wh-" I tried, but Helga was already on top of my words, the bell ringing soon thereafter.

"So I'll be at your place at 7, not a SECOND too late or too early, and if you don't get me some kind of fancy corsage, you better BELIEVE you'll hear about it for the rest of your existence, ya twerp." She winked my way before saluting and making her way out of the room to leave me stunned in the wake of her exit.

DING. DING. DINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG.

The bell dragged out like a flatline in my ears; my heart following suit as it palpitated in my chest.

 _Did I really just ask Helga Pataki to... to PROM?_

* * *

I stood in the hallway-long line leading up to the table selling the prom tickets, my hands clammy as I fidgeted in my spot.

My eyes darted around the open space in hopes they wouldn't catch that of my best friend's.

Gerald's.

The table for tickets was set up just outside the cafeteria in the exact same position it had been in for the passed month that Prom tickets had been on sale. They were 20 bucks for seniors, 60 for everyone else, so it was nice on the wallet when your Senior year rolled around so you could have that big discount.

But it wasn't the price I was worried about.

It was Gerald.

The line creeped along, it's slow and steady pace that of a snail's and only seemed to go slower with each passing second I waited. My anxiety was high, and the nerves under my skin were going crazy as I desperately hoped I'd be able to buy tickets without a certain someone noticing.

That someone... being Gerald.

I was about five people from the front of the line, my anxiety beginning to clear when his familiar voice rang out of the growing-louder crowd of people ready to chow down on lunch.

"Hey Arnold!" He hollered, waving over to me as he made his way through the thick sea of students.

"Oh uh... h-hi Gerald." I took a step closer to the table, my turn now next to purchase tickets.

"What're ya doing...?" He asked, his voice expressing the excitement he was feeling at what he had caught me in the act of doing.

"Th-this? What am I... what am I doing? G-Gerald..." I stuttered out, my defenses not really ready for such interrogation.

"Looks like you're buying prom tickets... am I right?" He grinned, his smile covering nearly his entire face.

I gestured to the table I was now directly in front of. "Looks like that's what I'm doing, huh?" I replied, then held up two fingers to tell the person manning the money how many tickets I wanted. I tossed him my school ID card to prove I was a senior, and he wrung up the appropriate price, taking my cash and organizing it into the teller he had in front of him.

"So who's the lucky lady?" Gerald asked, a light punch tapping my shoulder with his words. "Is it that Ashley chick from homeroom?"

I smirked, the actuality of who I WAS bringing in comparison to Ashley from homeroom being hilarious to me. The guy in charge of tickets began printing mine off from the printer beside him.

"Nope," I answered, my lips popping on the 'p.'

"Alright, so then... Kalee from your AP Chem class?" He guessed again, though I only shook my head.

"Try again." I teased, my eyes intently watching as my tickets slowly made their way out of the printer; the colors peaking from the disposal tray.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, snapping his fingers as if it would make his next guess more correct. "It's Norah from your study hall, isn't it? Man, you ALWAYS go for the exotic quiet types, you need to broaden your horizons-"

The tickets finally printed off and the guy handed them to me, a false smile attached as I took them from this hands. I turned to walk away from both the ticket table and Gerald, effectively cutting him off with my next words. "I'm taking Helga."

I continued to walk, though Gerald remained behind in clear shock. Soon I heard his footsteps jog to catch up with me; his voice shaky and tentative. "Wait a minute... Arnold, did you say you're taking HELGA? As in Helga G. Pataki?"

The two of us fell into the back of the long line leading to pizza up ahead along with less favorable choices that nobody actually chose. I kept my attention ahead, not wanting to see a visual representation of Gerald's reaction.

"Yep," I answered calmly with a single blink. "That's the one."

"That's the one? Helga G. Pataki- Arnold, have you completely LOST it, man?" He nearly shouted, though nobody around us was paying any attention.

"Well, it was kind of... an accident." I offered, but Gerald wasn't taking the bait.

"Tell me, Arnold, how DOES one accidentally ask out Helga G. Pataki? Huh? YOU tell ME how you, YOU, achieved that one." He stood beside me waiting, an impatient look on his face.

"She sort of... tricked me." It was the best description I could possibly think of, and it seemed to satisfy Gerald.

"Now THAT sounds at least a LITTLE more realistic. Man, you had me thinking you actually WANTED to go with her or something."

His words seemed to offend me somehow, his clear distaste for Helga something I may have been used to but didn't appreciate him voicing so completely.

 _So what if I took Helga to the senior prom?_ I thought, clenching my jaw together slightly. _What wast the big deal anyway?_

"At least you'll have me to protect you," Gerald continued having not noticed I hadn't been paying a lick of attention to what he'd been saying. "Cause you know, she'll obviously tag a long with Phoebe. So thanks a lot for THAT."

I glared at him, my eyes narrowing in his direction. "Like it's so horrible if she comes along? Seriously, Gerald. You've put up with her for this long, is one more night going to KILL you or something? It's just PROM."

A few curious eyes found their gaze in my direction as I pursed my lips in frustration once my words had come out and Gerald was looking at me in shock.

"Alright," He held his hands up in a surrendering stance; his palms out towards me. "But don't say I didn't warn you. It's your poison, man."

* * *

Somehow, by some weird miracle sent from above, Helga and I had planned an entire prom night without ripping each other's heads off.

It'd actually been kind of... fun.

Gosh, I can't believe I even said that.

I'd rented this cheap tux from one of Grandpa's old friends who owned a shop the next town over, and Helga had found a super cheap dress at a local thrift store.

Well, Phoebe had found it, but I guess that wasn't surprising.

Helga didn't really seem like a dress kind of girl.

And to be honest, I'd half expected her to show up at my door in a beat-up sundress or something that she'd altered in a way only to be described as 'Helga Chic.'

But the woman at the door who looked back at me when I'd opened it wasn't Helga, and she wasn't wearing anything even remotely 'Helga Chic."

Her surprisingly hourglass frame which was usually hidden under baggy sweatshirts and loose-fitting band tees was tightly bound by a pink corset (is that what they're even called?) with sparkles trickling down from the top of the strapless dress. It poofed out like a ballerina from her waist, though the length only hit just passed her calves to reveal her familiar worn-out white sneakers that had tinged themselves to a dusty beige over the years.

The blonde waves of her hair were loosely pinned up to frame her face in an updo that really allowed her face to be shown which had been delicately made up with a light coating of makeup that only enhanced her natural beauty which I'd never stopped to take the time and notice any of the other times I'd looked at Helga before.

She was stunning.

I stood in front of her, mouth agape, as she stood outside on the stoop. "Well?" She asked, her tone agitated and shaky from shivering in the cold. "You gonna invite me in or what?"

* * *

It only took about an hour for Helga to ditch me completely once we got to the actual prom.

We'd stumbled our way through grand march, and by stumble I mean LITERAL stumble. She dragged me along and I stepped on her foot a couple of times which I'm sure led to some pretty interesting pictures we'd be seeing on the school's front page the very next day.

Then, in order to waste time before the prom started in a couple of hours, we went out to dinner at Chez Paris which was a bust because Phoebe got sick and had to throw up. She emerged saying she felt much better and it was probably a fluke, but Helga seemed terrified at the idea of her going home sick and leaving her be with the one and only me; so that was the reason I suspect she stuck around like she did.

That and the look of heartbreak in Gerald's eyes when he'd mentioned taking her home.

Once we paid, we drove in the packard to the venue where the prom was being held- an old ballroom in the outskirts of nowhere that seemed ecstatic to be getting our business, or any for that matter.

"It's rustic, really vintage and hip if you ask me," Rhonda gushed at the punch bowl to a few of our other friends who seemed less then interested. "It really adds to the theme and ambiance, don't you think?"

Stinky shrugged, taking a sip from his glass he'd just filled with red too-sweet punch. "I reckon I don't know what that word means, Rhonda. But if you say so..."

"The atmosphere, Stinky. The way it FEELS when you walk into a room."

"Well I feel like this punch needs a little kick, don't you Harold?" Sid said with a sly smile while holding up a silver metal flask and waving it back and forth with a raise of his brows.

"Yeah! Whattya say we add a little flavor to this lame-o punch!" Harold agreed, the three of them giggling as they poured the alcohol into the red juice.

Helga stood beside me, a bored expression on her face after Phoebe and Gerald had run off to join the masses dancing on the dancefloor.

"Well this is fun." She deadpanned, her tone not alluding to the words she had just spoke.

"We only just got here, you can't be bored yet." I said while following her as she made her way to sit at an open table.

"Oh yeah? Well I'm BORED, Arnold. What are YOU gonna do about it?" She spat the words at me, her eyes focusing out on the people laughing and dancing to the music under the flashing multi-colored lights.

"We could always dance. If you wanted that is." I offered, my voice soft and hesitant.

She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't DANCE, Arnold."

"I vaguely remember you dancing with me before, though. At that dance I supposedly ruined." I said the words playfully, a smile directed towards her as I spoke.

"I was BLIND. I had no idea what I was doing." Her voice was soft and lacking the luster her insults usually held when directed at me.

With a sigh, I looked around at the environment around us, the loud talking over the boom of the speakers that egged everyone on to continue dancing.

"You weren't BLIND, Helga. And what does that have to do with-"

She cut me off, however; instantly standing and turning around to walk away from me. "I'm going to go vote for prom fool and fool-ette," she grumbled.

I considered staying where I was. _Maybe I should let her just go. Maybe I should let her run off and have a bad time at the dance the way she clearly wants..._ My thoughts flurried around in my head clouding any logical thoughts swimming about. _But you CAN'T let her have a bad time... she clearly wanted you to ask her to prom for SOME reason._

It didn't take me long to force myself up and follow Helga to the table lined with boxes for ballots baring familiar names on each decorated one.

 _Rhonda_

 _Lila_

 _Mackenzie_

 _Sheena_

 _Alli_

My eyes drifted to the king options where Helga was standing and scribbling something on a scrap of paper.

 _Todd_

 _Gerald_

 _Cody_

 _Iggy_

 _Arnold_

My eyes lingered on my name that stared back at me from the cardboard ballot box.

Gerald and I hadn't been mad we were put up against each other for Prom King. To be honest, neither of us even WANTED the 'award' because it was stupid and just a popularity contest that would mean nothing within five years ANYWAY.

But it still felt kind of weird to be nominated.

I walked up to Helga as she tossed her paper into a box I payed no attention to the name atop of. "Who you voting for?" I asked, once again trying to reach out to Helga who seemed so determined to have the worst time imaginable.

"None of your beeswax, bucko. This is a closed voting process." She retorted while walking away from me in the direction of the beverage bar that had the spiked punch we'd seen Sid, Stinky and Harold create.

With nothing better to do, I followed after her, my own determination dead-set on making Helga have the prom she deserved- the prom anyone deserved.

"If you're trying to win my vote or something, your time has run out. I already cast my vote if you didn't notice." Her words were harsh, them coming out like fireballs as she grabbed one of the unopened cans of pop sitting nearby; popping the tab with her one hand.

"Oh, I don't want to win. No thank you." I said with a shake of my head, the idea making me sick.

"You don't want to bask in the attention of your undying republic of the weird football-head alliance? I saw them oogling over you when we first walked in. Though the look of shock on their faces when they saw me with you was quite satisfying, I will admit." She took a long sip of her pop, swishing the liquid through her teeth before finally swallowing it and taking another sip.

"Well who cares what they think, anyway?" I decided, my tone final and decisive.

Helga didn't seem to appreciate this all that much though.

"All your little FRIENDS have enough to say about it, I'm sure. I see the way Gerald's been GLARING at me all night. You really pissed him off, didn't you?" She looked at me, a tinge of hurt hiding behind her sapphire eyes that gave me chills as she looked at me.

"We'll be announcing Prom Royalty in ten minutes, everybody, so get your votes in before the polls close!" the DJ announced over the loudspeakers; a few people following direction and making their way over to the voting table.

Helga stood up from where we were seated and set her pop can down on the table. "This has been fun and all, muchacho, but I have better things to do than watch you win the popularity crown and ride off into the sunset with Rhonda or _Li_ la or whoever ELSE is actually worthy enough for his HIGHNESS." She offered a dramatic bow in my direction before standing straight up and turning around on her heal to walk away. "I'll see ya when your victory lap is over."

She stalked away, the image of Helga in her girly dress with her bully-walk seemingly amusing to the people around us who had been eavesdropping on our conversation the entire time. I sat, stunned, right where she'd left me.

" _...with Rhonda or_ Li _la or whoever ELSE is actually worthy enough for his HIGHNESS."_ Helga's words replayed in my head on loop, the sounds of the beats from the speakers drowned out by her words.

"Hey Arnold," Gerald's voice dragged me out of my Helga-induced thoughts, "you okay?"

I blinked a few times, my attention still lost in the words Helga had spoken that were dancing around my confused head. "Did I DO something to her?"

"Who- Helga?" Gerald asked while taking a seat to sit beside me at the table.

He'd already loosened his tie and had ditched his tux's jacket in lieu of rolling up his sleeves so he could dance more 'freely.'

"Why does she hate me so much?" I continued, my mind jumbled from all the whiplash Helga had put me through over the years.

"I think a more APPROPRIATE question would be WHY do you CARE?" His words weren't rude or mean-spirited, only questioning and genuinely curious about why it WAS Helga's attitude bothered me so much.

"Because... because I don't underSTAND, Gerald. I thought- I thought when we grew up... it would get better. Or that, that it would be DIFFERENT and she'd... I don't know. Mellow out." My thoughts were coming out all at once, a stew of questions brewing inside from every year with Helga I had under my belt.

"Only five minutes until our big Prom King and Queen reveal! Get your votes in now, everybody!" The DJ's voice called out once again to the slew of teenagers gathering at the front of the dancefloor to watch the crowning ceremony.

Phoebe stood just behind Gerald, her attention hovering over us from where she was pretending to politely listen to whatever it was Sheena was chattering on about.

"Mellow out. You thought Helga would mellow out?" Gerald asked skeptically while leaning back in his chair and watched me sort out my thoughts.

"I don't know. I at least thought she'd grow up and start treating me differently." The words were hard, a slam in the face if anything.

"You WANT her to treat you nicely? What would even HAPPEN if she did that? Man, the WORLD would explode. Complete apocalypse, I'm telling you." He was shaking his head, though a small smirk was resting on his lips.

I chuckled with him, but continued on. "The thing is Gerald, is she HAS. You just never see it."

"But you've TOLD me about it and I still say it's a fluke."

"And I don't," I cut in, my words serious as I turned to face Gerald where we sat. "I don't buy that it's a fluke. I don't buy that she hates me and I don't buy that every time she starts changing towards me, it's always in the heat of the moment."

Gerald remained quiet from where he sat, his attention glued to me as I took deep breaths as my mind continued to spin inside my skull.

"You aren't talking about that..." His voice lowered, his eyes narrowing with it, "rooftop incident again, are you?"

The images of that fated day flashed before my eyes, the hurry of the confession a faded memory, but one that stung my brain like an old wound never fully healed.

It kept me up at night, that confession. Ate away at me for years. Only Gerald knew of it's existence, and he had told me that it was all in my head and I was right to have given Helga a way out of her insanity, seeing as that was all it could ever be.

But the look on Gerald's face now as he looked at me from that dim-litted ballroom said another thing entirely; it said the words Gerald had never wanted to say.

"If you want to know so badly, Arnold," He started, his words careful and honest in a way Gerald and I so rarely talked, "then ask her. Cut the crap and just ask her."

He took a deep breath and pushed himself up to stand and look down at me as I remained seated. "Pheebs said she went upstairs. To the roof." He nodded his head to the hallway where the closet hiding the stairs lay that everyone knew about and frequently used to skip class.

I looked at him with wide eyes, his suggestion a silent acceptance of what we were both completely aware of and had been in denial about since we were only kids.

He turned to leave me, his want clearly to get back to Phoebe who stayed patient as she waited on the dancefloor for his return. Just before he wandered too far, he turned his head to look at me and raise a brow, "And Arnold?"

I stood up now, ready to follow in his unspoken advice, "Yea?"

Gerald flashed a smile in my direction, a light behind his eyes as he looked at me. "Don't PROVIDE her with the excuse this time, alright?"

* * *

She'd taken her hair out of the pins that had held it up so effortlessly. Her blond locks danced in the wind as she sat on the roof and looked out at the night sky as it's twinkling stars lit her up in starlight that made her glow in shades of silver.

"What are you doing up here." She stated, her words flat.

I took a few steps towards her, my hands shoved in my pockets as I walked. "Well, you kinda ditched me back there. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her shoulders shrugged with her soft laughter, though she didn't turn around to look at me. "I'm fine, Arn _oldo_. You can stop playing angel now."

"I'm not playing anything, Helga. YOU'RE the one who's been playing games." The words came out without hesitation, the very content of them taking me aback at my sudden courage to talk to Helga in such a manor.

"I'M playing games? Please." It was a mumble, something I wasn't meant to hear.

But I responded anyway. "You're the one who tricked me to ask you to prom."

This struck a nerve because within moments she twisted around from where she sat to glare at me and say with sudden ferocity, "I didn't TRICK you, ya dingus. You asked me fair and square. If you wanted to BACK OUT, you certainly could have. It isn't like _I_ would have cared."

"I think you would have though. Cared." My tone was soft, gentle.

She chewed on her lip for a moment before turning around to return her gaze out to the stars littering the sky.

"The only thing I CARE about is getting this night OVER with so I can go home and sleep. This whole thing has been a COMPLETE waste of time." She leaned forward to rest her chin in her hands while her elbows perched on her knees while she sat cross-legged on the roof.

I took a few more steps towards her until I could sit just beside her. "That's kinda too bad," I said with a sigh, my own eyes drifting to that of the night sky.

"And why's that?" She asked, her head tilting slightly to give me a side-eyed glance.

A smile grew on my lips before I took a deep breath and let the words free-fall from my mouth; "It's a lot of beauty to waste on one night- on one dance."

She stared at me for a long time, my focus trying to remain outwards to the stars but only caved to turn and face her.

Helga searched my eyes, "The stars?"

I chuckled, shaking my head and nodding in her direction. "No. You."

A gust of wind shot through the air, it's chill making Helga shiver from her bare shoulders' lack of protection. "M-me?"

I nodded my head again, this time more firmly than I had before. "You." I clarified, her cheeks turning bright red despite how cold she appeared.

She sat in silence, the wind's howl moaning a song around us as Helga played with the pink corsage I'd put around her wrist a few hours ago.

Her smile was so big at the sight of that silly flower bracelet Prom had come to accept as a tradition over the years. She'd tried to hide the surprise she had that I'd remembered her request (threat) but I could see the glimmer in her eyes when I'd put it around her wrist.

We sat quietly on top the roof, our attention elsewhere though it was clearly still centered around the two of us. I couldn't help but continuously glance over at Helga, the way the moonlight bathed her gave her a pale glow that radiated from her as she shivered in the chill that had picked up significantly since 9 o'clock.

Slowly, I pulled my overcoat off of me and reached over to drape it on Helga's shoulers; her shivering lessening almost instantly.

"Wh-what are you-" She tried, but I didn't allow her to finish.

"You wanted me to take you to prom, didn't you?" I asked boldly.

She seemed to toss the idea of answering me around in her head before she shook her head and darted her eyes away from mine. "I don't know WHAT you're talking about, Hair Boy."

"Come on, Helga. Knock it off," I snapped, her head staying still and unmoving as I continued, "I KNOW you're not like this. I KNOW you know what I'm talking about, and I KNOW you have a huge crush on me so just come off of it and give me a CHANCE here."

This seemed to grab her attention as she nearly spun her head around to look at me intensely. "How DARE you say that to me-"

"What? The TRUTH?" I cut her off again, her lips trembling as if wanting to speak but losing the courage to. "You don't ACTUALLY think I don't still know, do you? That you... you know."

My voice became meek, suddenly bashful though it wasn't me who had anything to be afraid of. I was just asking questions, right? It wasn't like I was ADMITTING to anything, right?

Helga looked at me up from under her eyelashes in a vulnerable look I'd only seen her give me one other time before; a time too long ago to recollect properly. "Say it. I dare you."

She held my gaze for a long moment, almost trying to snuff me out of any funny business with just one look. At my lack of response, she merely chuckled and shook her head. "See? I knew you couldn't do it. You're just a no-good, completely BLIND twerp of a-"

"You love me," I blurted out, Helga stopping mid sentence at my final admission to what she'd told me all those years ago in a not-so different place than where we were now. "And sure, we were nine and sure I thought you'd just grown up and let it all go and all but..." I tried to gather my thoughts and swallow the rock growing in my now super-dry throat. "But you've just been so... HORRIBLE to me and I thought I could take it and I thought it meant nothing but when you tricked me into asking you to prom-"

"Now hold up," She said, a hand outstretched to stop me mid-speech. "If you're going to get all MUSHY on me and confess some of kind of DEEP DARK SECRET to me or something, let's establish one thing REAL QUICK before you finish, yeah?"

I glanced around us as if someone would pop out and explain the joke of all this. "S-su-sure?" I stuttered from shock.

"Don't you EVER make me wait this long for you to make up your mind again. Got it, football-head?" Her words were sharp, though they danced through the air playfully once they escaped her lips which were now upturned into a smile that was directed towards me.

Helga G. Pataki was smiling- at ME.

And I LIKED it.

Heat swam it's way through my body and up into my cheeks where it spread like a wildfire until my entire face was beet-red. Taking notice of this, Helga smiled and shook her head sympathetically.

"Man, Arnold. You're blushing like a goof over there. You alright?" There was obvious humor in her words, a blush of her own creeping up into her cheeks.

I nodded my head and scooted closer to her as we sat on the roof. "I'm great, Helga. You? Has prom turned out to be everything you hoped it'd be and more?"

She thought this through for a moment, her eyes rolling up to look at the sky as if in contemplation to the different dimensions of my seemingly-simple question. Inhaling sharply, she sighed it out and shook her head. "No, there's something missing, now that you mention it."

Muffled cheering and applause amid a heavy earth-shattering bass came from below us in the ballroom where the announcements for King and Queen were being made. I imagined there were tears and unnecessary speeches that I was certainly glad I was missing from where I sat beside Helga.

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" I asked, her blush growing deeper as she looked down at her lap briefly.

"Well, you haven't kissed me yet. And I think that's how the confession thing works." She looked at me seriously then, my own expression shocked by the bluntness of her words.

"Oh- oh it is, huh?" I asked through a small laugh, Helga nodding her head.

"Yep, and you've broken the rules. You haven't even TRIED yet. Most kids your age would be DYING at the chance for some free lip-lock action. What with your hormones and whatnot."

More muffled cheering ensued from below us, though it stopped more suddenly than the first bout of cheering had.

"You want me to kiss you then?" I asked, my voice smoother than I'd imagined it would come out seeing as my heart was racing a mile a minute.

"Yeah. It's kind of how this whole thing WORKS, Arnold, get with the TIMES alread-"

I leaned in and softly pressed my lips to hers, shaky as they were and as terrified as I was. She seemed rigid at first, the feel of my lips suddenly against hers throwing her off guard for a moment before she quickly melted into it and began to kiss me back.

The wind spun around us, it's cool breeze sending a chill up my spine that only intensified the way our lips moved with one another's; the entire world freezing as we kissed for the second time on top of a roof high above the world below.

The door leading to where we sat burst open, Gerald's voice booming from the doorway, "Arnold, man you won! You gotta-"

Helga and I turned around to look at him as he looked at the two of us in complete shock, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

"I'll just uh..." He stuttered, slowly backing away from us and back into the doorway from where he'd come. "I'll just... tell them you're busy..."

The door immediately shut, leaving Helga and I to look at each other and laugh the kind of laugh that made your sides ache and your belly hurt until you couldn't laugh anymore.

But it wasn't the laughter pains that stopped our laughter as we continued to sit up on the roof away from our classmates down below. It was Helga's lips that forced me to shut up, and for the first time since I'd met Helga, I was happy to comply.


End file.
